


One of these things

by rabid_plotbunny



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Asami because he deserves his own warning, M/M, crack!fic, cracky crack!fic at that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabid_plotbunny/pseuds/rabid_plotbunny
Summary: Asami gets an unexpected visitor in his office one night, and things progress from there.





	One of these things

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on IJ/LJ 08-05-2007

Asami looked up from his paper-laden desk, golden eyes narrowed in annoyance, when the door to his office opened after only a single knock. His expression cleared slightly as he recognized the man now standing just inside the room, the door closed behind him once more.

“Doctor,” he greeted, setting his pen back into its holder, then leaning back in his chair as he gave the man a considering look.

“Asami-sama,” the doctor greeted with a short bow.

“And? Did it work?” He was curious. When the other man had first approached him and breached the idea, he had to admit he'd almost shot him both for his daring and possible insanity. It was only after the man had explained the proposed experiment in great detail backed by extensive paperwork that Asami had allowed himself to consider the possibilities.

The doctor's thin lips stretched slightly in what was probably supposed to approximate a smile. Dark grey eyes gleamed with fervor. What little hair was left to him was a graying fringe that somehow managed to give the impression of ragged laurels. “See for yourself,” he said. He opened the door and beckoned, then stepped aside to let Asami step into the room.

Golden eyes widened in shock and no small amount of barely-suppressed glee as he took in the dark-suited form that now stood beside the doctor in the office. “You did it.”

“I did it.” There was no denying the pride that infused the thin, reedy voice. Another lip-curl that may have been a grin. “Asami-sama, meet clone-Asami.”

He rose from his seat, stepped out from behind the desk and crossed the room, his double meeting him halfway. They examined each other, both taking in the little details that made them unique - now shared between them.

“Amazing,” neither Asami could tell for sure which of them had voiced the word, but both meant it.

“Are you pleased?” the doctor asked, cutting into their observation of each other. 

They looked to each other, then back to the other man. “Yes,” they said. Then the original Asami pulled out his gun and shot the doctor, sending him slamming back against the wall to slide to the floor, leaving a wide swath of blood behind on the wall as he went.

“Why?” he asked in a blurb of blood.

“I can't have you making any more, now can I? I will not be overthrown by myself!” the original said.

“You should have left when you had the chance,” the clone agreed.

The words were not completely out of his mouth when there was a knock at the door. “Asami-sama?”

***

His men had come and gone, unable to keep from staring at the two Asamis. One had muttered something about _kagemusha_ , and the others had accepted that readily enough.

Asami hesitated for a long moment, then decided to head home for the day. His work had not progressed as far as he had planned, but he was not about to trust it to the eyes of a man he had only just met, clone or not. For all he knew, the doctor's cloning experiment had been a dismal failure and the man before him was simply a person in very good latex prosthetics and makeup.

Later on, safely closed into his penthouse suite in the dim pre-dawn hours, he watched the man leave the bathroom after his shower then cross the room to climb into the other side of the bed from where he lay. The resemblance between them was uncanny. The only difference that he could see was that where his own skin was marked and scarred from the dangerous life he led, his double's was still smooth and blemish-free. He admitted that the odds of the other Asami _not_ being a clone were not good; there was no way that the doctor could have known he had a bunny-shaped birthmark _there_. Somewhat reassured, he lay down, pulled the slick silken sheets up over his naked body, closed his eyes, and settled in to sleep.

Or not.

Golden eyes opened, looking up into an identical pair leaning close above him. His hip and thigh tingled where a hand the match to his own save for the lack of calluses slowly stroked it. Up, then down. Up. Down. “What do you think you're doing?” he ground out, turning over. “Go to sleep.”

The hand moved to his shoulder, then slid down his back to grab onto his rear and give it a good squeeze. “You're not tired already, are you? I'm not.”

Asami turned back around, sitting up abruptly. He pointed to the other side of the bed. “You, there,” he said firmly. “Go. To. Sleep.”

The other Asami smirked and the original had his first taste of what Takaba must feel almost every time they were together. Was he really _that_ annoying? His wandering thoughts were snapped back into focus when his leg was grabbed and he was tugged slightly down the bed, then as a warm hand wandered up between powerful thighs. “You, down,” his double said, tone a match to Asami's previous command. Then one finger touched his entrance, ever so gently. “Me. Here.”

“Like hell.”

As if the words were a challenge, within moments the two were rolling around on the bed, both struggling for dominance. Asami managed to get his hand on the pistol he kept hidden under his pillow, only to have his wrist struck with enough force to send the gun flying. He retaliated, sending a quick jab into the clone's gut.

Five minutes later, panting and breathless, both somewhat bruised, they were forced to concede that they were evenly matched, as both had the other in holds that were both uncomfortable and seemingly unbreakable, their limbs pretzeled up together. It was then - as they lay on the bed, short of breath, hot, and sweaty - that their bodies seemed to realize almost simultaneously that _hey!_ there was a _hot, naked body pressed against it_ and _why not do something about that?_

Both Asamis looked down, unable to deny the reaction plainly displayed by a matching pair of heavy, throbbing cocks.

The original looked his double in the face. “You're the uke.”

“I am not!” the clone protested. “I'm a seme! You be the uke!”

“I'm definitely seme. I'm older so I'm seme. Now turn over like a good little uke.”

“I'll 'good little uke' you! And I'm younger so _I_ have the stamina to _be_ a seme! _You_ turn over!”

Asami sighed in annoyance. “This is getting us nowhere. Clearly we're equally stubborn, and equally seme.”

Clone-Asami was forced to agree. “So... Flip a coin?”

Asami got up, followed closely by the other man, then dug a coin out of the coin-tray on the dresser. “Call,” he said.

“Tails,” the clone said with a leer.

The coin rose into the air as Asami flipped it, then fell through the air to land, perfectly balanced, on its edge as if even _it_ didn't want to get pulled into the argument between the volatile men.

“You're kidding me.”

***

Ten minutes later, both suffering from prolonged blue-balls, they finally came to an agreement that – while neither was exactly thrilled – would at least take care of the immediate problem.

Mutual hand-jobs.

They returned to the bed, lay down facing each other, then reached out. Both knew exactly how and where to touch, how much pressure it took to get to that perfect edge between pleasure and pain, when to squeeze, and when the simple brush of a finger was enough to end it all.

It didn't take them long before they stiffened as their climax rushed over them, their vision momentarily going white. But once the last tingles of the physical pleasure release brought faded, both were left as unsatisfied as if they had simply taken matters into their own hands.

“That was... Well, it wasn't _bad_ ,” the clone said at last as they cleaned themselves off afterward, thanks to a box of baby wipes Asami kept in the bedside table.

“Hn,” Asami said. He took out a cigarette, then offered the pack to his clone as he dug around for a lighter.

For a while they smoked in silence, lying beside each other on the bed, the ashtray lying on the sheets between them.

Then Asami ground out the stub of his cigarette, turning his gaze on the other man. “I don't think I can be satisfied with merely _not bad_ ,” he said with a smirk.

His clone grinned, stabbed out his own cigarette, then placed the tray on the side table on his side of the bed. “Neither can I.”

***

Mid-morning brought with it the sound of a key jiggling in the lock of the door into the penthouse suite. The door opened and Takaba Akihito eased in, dragging with him several pieces of luggage. There were dark shadows under his eyes and even his _hair_ looked tired.

“Asami?” he called softly. He closed and locked the door behind him, then left his bags there and walked further into the other man's living space. “Asami? I'm sorry to intrude, but I just got back from a shoot across the country to find my apartment building's being fumigated, and Kou and Takato both have family over so they don't have room. I'll just camp out on the couch, all right? It's just until the day after tomorrow. I'll be quiet as a mouse; you won't even notice me, I swear. I even promise not to take naked pictures of you in the shower to plaster all over Tokyo.”

There was no answer. He wandered over to the bedroom door, unsurprised to find it closed. The man's work took up most of the night so he was forced to take his rest during the day, and typically closed the door to block out the east-facing parlor's morning light. He knocked softly, ear to the door. “Asami?” he asked. He heard what sounded like a moan from the other side, and turned the doorknob without another thought. A grudging concern pushed its way through him; had the man fallen ill? “Asami? Are you all- Oh. My. God.”

Twin pairs of golden eyes focused on the door, a vague surprise showing through otherwise lust-glazed eyes.

Takaba backed up, shaking his head to rid himself of the vision. When that didn't work, he pinched himself to wake up, with equal results.

Lying head-to-tail on the wide bed were two Asamis, both caught mid-blowjob, fingers poking around each other's rears. A bottle of lube lay on the sheets near at hand, just in case.

“Asami,” Akihito managed to get out, “when I told you to go fuck yourself, I didn't think you would actually _do_ it!”

He could do nothing but stare as the two Asamis looked to him, then each other, then let engorged flesh slip from their mouthes with a last lick. He backed up, almost immediately slamming into the wall as he missed the door by several paces, watching as the two rose and stalked closer. “A-Asami?” he squeaked. Perhaps he should have tried harder to find another place to stay....

Golden eyes met golden eyes. “Seme,” one stated.

“Seme,” the other agreed.

Four golden eyes settled on the wide-eyed photographer. “Uke,” two identical voices purred in unison.

Akihito turned to run, but didn't make it out the door.

**END**


End file.
